A teenage boy was playing in his room on his computer when his grandfather came in and sat on the bed.
“I know you love your computer,” said the grandfather, “but you really should get out of the house more and experience life. After all, you’re eighteen now. When I was eighteen, I went to Paris, went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed on the barman and left without paying! Now that is how to have a good time!”
A week later, the grandfather came to visit again. He found the boy still in his room, but this time with a broken arm in plaster, two black eyes and no front teeth.
“What happened to you?” he asked. The boy said: “I did what you did. I went to Paris, went to the Moulin Rouge, drank all night, had my way with the dancers, pissed on the barman and he beat the hell out of me!”
“Oh dear!” said the grandfather. “Who did you go with?”
“Just some friends. Why? Who did you go with?”
“The Third Panzer Division.”
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